


The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People

by mornen



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Drama, Family, Family Strife, Fighting, Gen, Modern AU, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22090309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mornen/pseuds/mornen
Summary: Modern AUFëanor had said they couldn't see their half cousins and Maedhros had said, ‘All right, Father,’ and moved out the next week. Curufin thinks it was one of his best moves.Fingon moved in the very next day. He shoved his things into a backpack and hopped on a bus in the rain, and didn’t talk to Fingolfin for two weeks. Curufin doesn’t get why since it wasn’t like Fingolfin said he couldn’t see Maedhros, but, whatever, Fingon likes to be dramatic.Now Curufin is slouched in the red armchair in their studio apartment sipping cold tea that was supposed to be hot but he left it too long. And he’s watching them. And he knows that they’re going to either tear their families apart or somehow manage to stitch them all together. It’s not a bet he’d willingly take, per say, but he doesn’t have a choice in the matter, so fuck it, he’s going to have fun watching the fire.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	1. 1. Alienating your Friends and Family

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gaolcrowofmandos (imperialhuxness)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperialhuxness/gifts).



Curufin knows a lot about Maedhros. He knows more about Maedhros than he ought to know, like his laptop and email passwords and the passcode to his phone. He knows he often does things before even thinking for one second. He knows the songs that make him sob, no exceptions. He knows the five most important things in Maedhros’s apartment: 5) his laptop, 4) the shoes Father made, 3) his phone, 2) the necklace he never takes off, 1) Fingon.

Fingon, oldest son of the oldest usurper. Fëanor had said they couldn't see their half cousins and Maedhros had said, ‘All right, Father,’ and moved out the next week. Curufin thinks it was one of his best moves.

Fingon moved in the very next day. He shoved his things into a backpack and hopped on a bus in the rain, and didn’t talk to Fingolfin for two weeks. Curufin doesn’t get why since it wasn’t like Fingolfin said he couldn’t see Maedhros, but, whatever, Fingon likes to be dramatic.

Now Curufin is slouched in the red armchair in their studio apartment sipping cold tea that was supposed to be hot but he left it too long. And he’s watching them. And he knows that they’re going to either tear their families apart or somehow manage to stitch them all together. It’s not a bet he’d willingly take, per say, but he doesn’t have a choice in the matter, so fuck it, he’s going to have fun watching the fire.

Curufin checks his phone. He has a new message from Celegorm. He reads it and swipes the notification away without answering. He doesn’t want to tell Celegorm where he is or when he’s coming home.

He sips his cold tea and doesn’t warm it up. Fingon’s offered twice because he’s that kind of sweet.

So here's the thing about Fingon.

He's annoying, yeah, but he's annoying in that perfect kind of way where your main problem with him is that you'll never measure up. He's selfless, sweet, kind, and oh so gentle, which is probably why Maedhros likes him so fucking much. Maedhros is damn selfish.

Curufin actually likes Fingon a lot, he just also wants to slap him. It’s confusing, but what can you do. Curufin never slaps Fingon, though, because Maedhros would end him on the spot.

Celegorm texts again telling Curufin to get back for dinner. Curufin ignores that one too. He dips a butter cookie into his cold tea. Fingon looks at him, lips pouting, big, grey eyes full of pity. He’s embroidering blue flowers onto a silver jacket.

‘I like it cold,’ Curufin says.

Fingon nods, but he has that sad look in his eyes as he watches Curufin sip the cold tea.

‘Curvo, just let him heat it,’ Maedhros groans.

‘No,’ Curufin says, and now he doesn’t want to just because he’s been told to. ‘Mmm, nice and cold.’

Fingon rolls his eyes.

Curufin takes a picture of the tea for his snap story. He writes, ‘mmm cold tea. not iced! cold!’ He waits.

Fingon checks his phone. He runs his tongue over his teeth, mouth closed. He lets out a long breath through his nose.

Celegorm texts: oh so you’re at nelyo’s

Fuck it.

Celegorm: dad’s not happy

Fëanor and Maedhros aren’t talking. They did talk after Maedhros moved out, when Maedhros came to get some of his things, and it went so well that Maedhros left without anything. Fëanor had screamed after him to never come back and called him a snivelling coward, and that was October. It’s January now.

Curufin’s phone starts ringing. Of course it’s Fëanor. Curufin contemplates ignoring him, but Fëanor doesn’t like to be ignored.

‘Just answer your phone, Curvo,’ Maedhros says. He stops cutting tomatoes and sinks down onto the bed near Fingon.

Curufin swipes to answer. ‘Hey, Dad.’

‘You can just stay there tonight.’

‘Am I banished?’ Curufin asks. He doubts he is, but it’s still a possibility.

‘No. Just don’t come home tonight. I’m too angry to look at you.’ Fëanor hangs up.

‘Well I don’t know what I expected,’ Maedhros says.

He gets up and goes to the window. He watches the neighbours for a moment, the bar across the street. He sticks his hands deep in his pockets.

‘It isn’t fair,’ Curufin says. ‘I miss Irissë.’

‘She misses you too,’ Fingon says quickly. He’s put down his jacket and is searching for extra bedding for Curufin.

‘Think you can squeeze in the bed with us?’ Maedhros asks.

Fingon pauses. He’s pulled out one extra blanket and nothing else.

‘Yeah, sure,’ Curufin says. ‘Or I can visit uncles?’ He looks at Fingon.

Fingon shrugs. ‘I don’t know… things aren’t really… smooth, yet.’

Oh. Maybe Fingon did have a reason for not talking to his dad for two weeks.

Maedhros puts his arm around Fingon’s waist. ‘I can sleep on the floor.’

‘It’s fine, we’ll snuggle,’ Curufin says.

He texts Celegorm: how angry is dad??

Celegorm: don’t fucking come home

Maedhros makes dinner while Fingon writes his essay for biology. Curufin moves to the bed and listens to the music demo Maglor sent him last week. He watches his hand as he moves it in the air above his head.

He turns over, looking through Aredhel’s instagram. They still text and call and see each other sometimes, but it’s different. He’s used to seeing her practically everyday.

And he’s used to seeing the rest of his family too. Or ex-family. Whatever. Maybe it will boil over in a couple of years.

Mother was right. Fëanor really is selfish.

He’s also enchanting and consuming. Which is a terrible combination. Curufin rolls off the bed and sets out the dishes on the little coffee table.

‘So are you not supposed to see me?’ Maedhros asks as they start dinner.

‘No, we can see you,’ Curufin says. ‘We’re not supposed to see him.’

Fingon rolls his eyes. Curufin wrinkles his nose at him.

‘Stop it,’ Maedhros says. ‘Both of you. You’re just acting like he’d want.’

‘Oh, I’m not mad at baby cousin,’ Curufin says. He likes to call Fingon that even though he’s only a couple of years older. It drives Fingon crazy.

‘I’m not mad at Curvo,’ Fingon says.

Maglor writes in their brothers’ group chat: mother left again

Caranthir writes: mom’s out the door again

Curufin reads the messages quietly. He looks at Maedhros over the table. Maedhros shrugs.

Maedhros writes: i’m sooooooooo surprised

‘What?’ Fingon asks.

‘I guess mother went back to her father again,’ Maedhros said. ‘They’re going to break up, I swear.’

Fingon takes a sip of water. He doesn’t look surprised either.

‘Do you have class tomorrow?’ Curufin asks Fingon. He wants to talk about anything else. Even Fingon’s boring school.

‘Yeah,’ Fingon says. ‘At 11 and then 3.’

Curufin doesn’t care to ask him more about it. He keeps forgetting his major too. Social studies or literary studies or sociology or something.

Curufin makes jewellery and knives, some little novelty machines, wind up music boxes. He doesn’t plan to ever go to college.

He texts Celegorm: what’s going on?

Celegorm: nothing now. dad’s working

Curufin slides his phone back into his jeans’ pocket. He hopes things will go okay in the morning.


	2. Picking Fights with Gods

Maedhros drags Curufin into his arms after dinner and Curufin is suddenly six inches off the floor.

‘Ugh,’ Curufin says.

‘Don’t complain, Curvo.’

Maedhros is evil like that. He’s too tall and he knows it and uses it against you constantly.

Maedhros is too tall for his bed even so they have a bench at the end of it where he can put his feet. Curufin laughs at Maedhros as he lies down, feet on the bench.

‘Shut up,’ Maedhros says.

Curufin puts his hand to his mouth, still laughing. Maedhros pushes a pillow over his head.

‘You’re horrible, Curvo.’

Curvo’s been told so a million times. He pushes the pillow off and settles it under his head.

Fingon’s made the bed up all nice with clean sheets and he’s done with his homework. He puts on a show and Maedhros drags Curufin down into the blankets to torment him further.

Looking like Dad does not have a lot of benefits. The main benefits are being super fucking hot and pretty at all times and being Dad’s favourite.

The drawbacks are constant teasing and also his siblings being horrid to him and tormenting him while pretending he’s Fëanor or something? Who knows. Certainly not Curufin. He’s smarter than all of them, dear god.

‘Just sit there and pretend to be Father.’ He’s been told that more times than he cares to remember. But he’s good at tuning them out.

‘You need a bigger bed,’ Curufin says.

‘Have to get it custom made,’ Maedhros says.

‘So have you ordered?’

‘Not yet,’ says Fingon. ‘We don’t know how long we are staying in this place.’

‘We need something bigger,’ Maedhros says. ‘What with everyone coming over all the time.’ He rolls Curufin underneath him. ‘Curvo, Curvo, Curvo.’ Each ‘Curvo’ means a kiss. ‘I love you.’

Curufin puts his arms around his neck. He’s not supposed to be there, seeing Fingon, but honestly? Honestly? He can’t really imagine life without seeing his half-cousins. Like, it sounds really really boring. And he can’t stay away from Maedhros, even if he were to avoid the ‘usurpers’ because Maedhros is sometimes more like a parent than either of his parents ever can be.

‘Curvo, my darling.’ Maedhros kisses his forehead. His hair falls in a copper sheet around them.

Curufin takes a fistful of his hair and just holds it, not pulling. Maedhros watches him. He puts one finger to his nose.

‘What?’

Curufin shrugs and pushes Maedhros off him. He loves him, but he’s not going to say it now because it will encourage him, and Manwë knows that’s the last thing he needs. He slings an arm around Fingon.

‘Stealing baby cousin.’

Fingon rolls his eyes. ‘Stop.’

It’s warm. Curufin leans against Maedhros, arm still about Fingon.

‘Too tall,’ he whispers as Maedhros shifts to cover his feet with one of the blankets.

Maedhros kisses his temple.

Finarfin is at the table when Curufin gets home the next day. Curufin would be surprised, but this is the sort of thing Finarfin does: smooth things over or die trying.

Maglor sits besides Finarfin and sips his iced coffee. Caranthir is there too, standing by the window. No sign of the rest of his family. Curufin kicks off his shoes and socks and drops his bag on a chair.

‘Hey, Ara.’

Finarfin nods at him. Curufin sits down on the table next to him and steals a sip of Maglor’s coffee.

‘What’s up?’

‘Just trying to work some things out,’ Maglor says. ‘They blew up last night, and the twins started crying. Mother took them with her. And of course, Father got mad at you, and, well, he ran off to work, and I haven’t heard from him, and…’

‘Yeah,’ Curufin says. What Maglor means is he needs someone to lean on. ‘Where’s Turko?’

‘Out. He took his bag, so I doubt he’ll be back for a week.’

Curufin nods again. He drinks more of Maglor’s coffee.

Finarfin puts his hand on Maglor’s knee. He is such a good uncle. Maglor puts his head against Finarfin’s shoulder. He looks all tired and worn out. Curufin’s glad he missed the fight.

Maglor checks his phone and sighs. He’s texting Maedhros. He types quickly, puts his phone down, and puts his arms around Finarfin.

‘I am so sick of my family. Adopt me.’

Finarfin makes some sort of sympathetic coo? Curufin is only half paying attention, so, like, whatever. Fingon’s posted a cute pic of the himself and Maedhros on Instagram like their lives aren’t falling apart. Curufin studies it. Oh. It’s from this morning, when Curufin was sleeping in. He checks to see if Fëanor is still following Fingon. Surprisingly, he is. Curufin would have thought he’d blocked all of Fingolfin’s family on all of social media. Fingon isn’t following Fëanor. Neither is Maedhros. Fëanor isn’t following Maedhros, so Maedhros probably has him blocked.

Curufin hearts the photo and steals some of Finarfin’s coffee. He likes it better than Maglor’s so he drinks more. Caranthir’s being all moody and stuff by the window. He wishes Celegorm were there but Celegorm’s favourite thing is running off into the woods and pretending like he doesn’t have a family.

‘Why’s Ñolo mad at Finde?’ he asks.

‘He’s not,’ says Finarfin.

‘I was gonna sleep over there last night, but Findekáno said I shouldn’t.’

‘Mm.’ Finarfin rubs his chin. ‘My brother’s a bit stressed out by your family at the moment.’

Curufin’s eyebrows shoot up.

‘Didn’t know Uncle was going to hold my father against me.’ He sips the coffee. ‘Or… is this because I look like Father?’

‘It’s because of what your father might accuse him of,’ Finarfin says.

‘Kidnapping?’ Curufin pets Finarfin’s hair.

‘Mm.’

Curufin shrugs. ‘Ñolo’s gonna kidnap the lot of us.’

‘He won’t.’

Curufin jumps off the table.

‘Get it together, songbird.’

Maglor huffs. ‘You weren’t there!’

Curufin rolls his eyes. ‘They’re always fighting. They’re fighting and Dad’s fighting with Ñolo and Ñolo’s fighting with Dad and Moryo is fighting with me.’ Caranthir shoots him a dirty look but doesn’t deny it. They don’t usually get along. Too close in age and temper. ‘And Dad’s fighting, like, all of the Valar.’

‘Yeah, fine,’ Maglor says. He pours himself more coffee and adds skim milk. ‘Invalidate all my feelings.’

‘Your feelings aren’t valid, sweetheart.’

Maglor gives Curufin a glare that makes his blood feel cold. Damn. He has got that look down. Curufin pretends it doesn’t bother him and looks down at his phone to avoid his gaze.

‘I am so stressed,’ Maglor says, to Finarfin. ‘And I just don’t know what to do.’

‘I listened to your demo,’ Curufin says, to distract him. ‘It was good.’

‘Mmm,’ says Maglor. ‘I’ve already changed it. I’ll send you the new one.’

Famous singer of a brother is like fine and all except you always have to listen to his music when it’s in the shitty development stages.

‘Cool,’ Curufin says.

‘Thanks, Curvo.’

‘Uh huh.’

Curufin texts Celegorm, but he’s offline and he’s been offline for twelve hours, so he probably doesn’t have reception out there. He sighs. Caranthir is still brooding by the window. Curufin throws Finarfin’s crumpled napkin at him.

‘Stop,’ Caranthir says.

‘You stop.’

‘You started it.’

‘Did not.’

Caranthir glares. ‘You literally just started it!’

‘I did not!’

‘Yes, you did! Kano, he literally just started it!’

Maglor lifts his face from his hands. ‘Boys...’

‘You were already mad at me!’ Curufin whines. ‘But I don’t know why!’

‘Because!’ Caranthir shouts. ‘None of you are listening to Father and I think he might be right!’ Caranthir shoves his hands dramatically into the pockets of his black jeans. ‘At the very least, we should listen to what he has to say.’

‘It’s all blah,’ Curufin says. ‘Nobody is dying so why the fuck should we care about succession? None of this matters.’

‘Whatever,’ Caranthir grumbles.

‘Look, I just want to see my friends,’ Curufin says. ‘Yeah, Ñolo can be an annoying brat but do you really think he’s actively planning harm to any of us? Like, for real?’

‘Not harm us, maybe,’ Caranthir says, ‘but he still could be getting all of Grandfather’s affections.’

‘Whatever,’ Curufin says. ‘And we don’t have to worry about the second comers because they all die anyway.’ He hops off the table. ‘Seriously, cheer up, Kano. Don’t you have a concert tonight?’

‘Tomorrow,’ Maglor mumbles.

‘Well, practice then!’ Curufin rolls his eyes. ‘You are so dramatic.’

‘That’s a lot to take from you,’ Maglor says.

Curufin rolls his eyes again. He finishes Finarfin’s coffee and grabs his bag, heads up to his room.

Aulë is in his parents’ room when he walks past the open door. Curufin freezes.

‘Aulë?’

Aulë turns. He looks a bit guilty, but not like completely guilty. Curufin guess Nerdanel probably sent him to get some of her things or something. They’re close like that.

‘I was hoping your father would be here,’ Aulë says. He’s holding a blue gem Fëanor has recently made. He puts it down suddenly, and it slips off the dresser and onto the floor. Aulë picks it up and puts it down again. He brushes his hands off on his pants.

‘Uh huh.’ Curufin leans against the door frame. ‘What’s up?’

Aulë folds his arms, and his arm muscles bulge against his copper arm cuffs. Curufin eyes them. Like, not to be gross or anything, but he’d be down.

‘I just want to resolve this peacefully,’ Aulë says.

‘Sure.’ Curufin rests one foot against his knee. ‘So what are you doing in my parents’ bedroom?’

Aulë picks up a coat.

‘Nerdanel wanted me to get this to her.’

‘Uh huh.’

Curufin lets Aulë put his hand on his arm. Fëanor’s gotten into this ‘Don’t fucking touch me!’ mood lately with the Valar, but it’s Aulë. Curufin still likes him.

They walk together to Curufin’s room. Aulë is like ten feet tall. It’s a good thing they have high ceilings. Aulë ducks under the doorway and avoids Curufin’s hanging light. He sits down on Curufin’s bed. Curufin puts down his bag. He goes out down the hall to deliver his socks to the dark clothes drawer in the laundry room and comes back. Aulë is still there, looking through Curufin’s sketch book.

‘Stealing my ideas?’

‘Just looking,’ Aulë says.

Curufin sits down next to him.

‘So?’

Aulë looks down at him, black eyes soft.

‘So what?’

Curufin shrugs. He doesn’t have a ‘so what’ just a general concept of ‘what the fuck is gonna happen.’ So he says that.

‘What the fuck is gonna happen?’

Aulë shrugs. ‘I don’t know.’

Great.

Curufin groans and lies down. ‘Oh my Aulë.’ He scrubs his hands over his face and then runs them through his hair.

Aulë rubs his leg.

‘Fëanáro and I had a very bad fight.’

‘Yeah, of course you did.’ Curufin glares at the ceiling. ‘This is so stupid.’

‘I’m glad you think so.’

‘You’re not really helping though.’

‘How am I not helping?’

Curufin doesn’t have a concrete answer for that either. It’s more a vague like concept that Aulë isn’t helping because nothing is getting done. He rolls over and buries his face in his pillow.

‘Hmm,’ Aulë says.

‘You got plans for the day?’ Curufin asks into his pillow. He doesn’t because he was thinking of going to go down and do some work, but Fëanor is in the shop, and he doesn’t want to see him right now. Especially not around fire and knives. They both have bad tempers.

‘Hmm,’ Aulë says again.

Curufin sighs. Okay. Fine. Whatever. Why the fuck did Celegorm have to go run off and play hide and seek by himself? He needs to make up with Maglor too. And Caranthir. He could go see Mother and the twins. But she’s gonna talk his ear off about how awful Father is and like Curufin still really, really loves him.

Really he wants to see Aredhel, but that’s like, a whole new level of defying Father. Seeing Fingon around Maedhros is one thing. Maedhros is still his brother. Going all the way across the city to Fingolfin’s house and hanging out with the ‘usurpers’ and just the ‘usurpers?’ Ugh. He’s not there yet.

Fëanor would have a fit if he saw him hanging out with Aulë, but Aulë was in his house to start with. Aulë keeps rubbing his leg.

‘Curufinwë?’

‘Mm?’

‘Want to get lunch with me?’

‘Sure.’

Curufin doesn’t have anything better to do.


End file.
